Of Ivory Lies and Blackened Hearts
by xLilim
Summary: Terashima Itoko is Koike Tetsuo's apprentice and dreams to one day be able to create as beautiful kimono as his. After arriving from an errand, Koike sends Itoko to Lord Okui's castle to take his daughter's measurements for a new wardrobe where things find an interesting way to complicate themselves, thrusting Itoko into one dangerous situation after the next. IzunaOC - ON HIATUS -
1. The Kimono Maker's Apprentice

**Disclaimer**: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto; OCs, non-canon plot © xLilim.

**Warning**(**s**): Everything that applies to the ratings applies to the level of violence, death, language, and content in this story. Read at your own discretion.

**xl note**: I owed this IzunaOC story to everyone that was rooting for Izuna and Mio in Redesign because he deserves his happy ending (and myself because I was rooting for him so hard)! Will this be it? Well, we'll have to find out, won't we?

Anyhoot, welcome to "Of Ivory Lies and Blackened Hearts!" This is a spin-off (or sidequel, if you want to be accurate) of Redesign/Kintsugi meaning it takes place in the same universe and will eventually come to intertwine with the events of Kintsugi. However, this does not mean you have to read Redesign to understand this one, though you can do it if you want even though it's MadaraOC and 58 chapters of sadness. You can get through this virtually ignoring Redesign and Kintsugi because I will tell you everything you need to know. Cool? Awesome.

To my Redesign readers, you can expect Kintsugi to be posted in December, until then, let this calm you with references to characters you know and events you might be anticipating. This takes place about six months (I think, I'll double check) before the start of Kintsugi.

So, I hope you enjoy the chapter even though it's a first one and the end is a little cliche (because I learn nothing in writing class, ha). I promise that everything will connect back to what is happening there to the bigger picture.

I'll see you in chapter two (of which there will be a preview available within the end of next week at the latest)!

By the way, you can find a preview for the next chapter at my livejournal, there's a link to get there through on my profile here. Check it out of you'd like.

* * *

**01** – The Kimono Maker's Apprentice

* * *

It started to rain. Suddenly. Quick as a blink. The clouds clustered into a gray mass that covered every inch of blue sky, and overflowing with water, shed it with an inconsolable wail that flashed light and thundered.

Terashima Itoko ran across puddles and muddied roads using her arms in a futile effort to shield herself from the downpour. She arrived at the kimonoya [**1**], but did not enter as she tried to catch her breath underneath its wooden awning, lungs burning from several minutes of non-stop running. She was drenched to the bone, her silk kimono ruined by the water and the mud caked at her feet and bottom of her skirts. She lamented its ruin as it had been given to her by her master on her seventeenth birthday, one he had constructed himself of a fine violet silk suited for the fall. It was one of her few prized possessions along with the kit of sewing tools she received when she first became an apprentice.

The wooden doors behind her slid open and Shintani Koji appeared, hands on the threshold, as she grabbed a hold of her sodden ponytail and wrung the water from her white hair. The graying man preparing his smoking pipe was married to Hidemi, the Kimonoya owner, and his presence made her aware that she just missed his wife, which only added to a growing list of misfortunes that had occurred in under an hour.

"Afternoon, Shintani-san," she greeted disappointedly.

Koji sat down on the wooden bench in front of the shop. "Afternoon, Terashima," he answered with a kindly smile and crossed one leg over the other. He brought the metal mouthpiece of his kiseru [**2**] to his mouth and took a deep draw from it, the scent of the kizami [**3**] reached her in her close proximity, strong and putrid—she never liked the smell of tobacco. "You caught the storm, it seems."

"It caught me," she corrected, wrinkling her nose as she squeezed the rainwater from her sleeves. There were few others rushing through the streets trying to take cover, though equally, a number of the townspeople remembered to carry umbrellas. She never anticipated rain.

The old man laughed. "It did," he said, but his mirth was short. "Hidemi left an hour ago. Emergency."

"Is everything all right?" Itoko asked, hoping this had nothing to do with her sick brother that lived in a neighboring province.

Koji shook his head. "Isamu got worse overnight," he replied mournfully. "He might not make it through the day."

Itoko bit her lip, feeling a twinge of sadness in her chest for Hidemi's grief. She knew the kimonoya's owner since she had become an apprentice and had wished life could spare her the sadness of losing a loved one. Her brother was her last living relative.

"She left your order prepared, though," Koji added, surprising her. "I'll get it out for you."

After hearing that she had an emergency, Itoko did not expect her to have had the time to finish preparing her master's request.

He took several puffs of his kiseru before emptying out its contents atop a small dish beside him and stood. He turned at the door. "I hope you won't be offended if I don't invite you in."

She shook her head. She would not have accepted an invitation in fear of tarnishing the fabrics with even a droplet of water.

He smiled and disappeared inside the shop. She could see rows of tanmono [**4**] of different shades and patterns sitting side by side atop the displays. She loved to venture into the shop when she had the time and admire the fabrics. She liked the smell inside, crisp, and clean, like the air in the morning after a frosty night.

Koji returned with her master's order, two tanmono: one carmine colored and the other a patterned blue piece. He packaged them properly in brown paper and yarn-like cord.

"I wrapped them thrice to keep them dry," he told her, then reached behind his door and produced a red umbrella. "It's best you do your best to do the same."

Itoko bowed deeply after taking both package and umbrella. "Thank you, Shintani-san."

"Run back to your master, now. Get something warm in your belly before you catch a cold."

She opened the umbrella—hugging the package to her chest—and held it over her head. She stepped out into the rain again and returned home.

Itoko made it to the entrance of an old minshuku [**5**], a two-story wooden structure with blue roof tiling, but Koike's assistant, Akiyoshi Kaoru, redirected her to the back entrance. Kaoru appeared to greet her with a towel when she pulled open the door, the squeak of its rusted hinges drowned by the sound of rain.

"This is the order," Itoko said, handing the brown package to Kaoru.

"I'll take it right up," Kaoru told her. "I drew the bath for you soon as the rain started. I'll bring you a change of clothes."

Itoko stepped into the small square area through the back door to remove her sandals and sodden socks before going up a small step to follow a short hallway on her right into the bath. Kaoru had taken the pair of shoji screens across the back entrance to a staircase.

Inside the bath area where the round tub was full of steaming hot water, Itoko peeled off her ruined kimono and tossed it along with the rest of her clothing into a basket outside the room. She scrubbed the mud from her legs and washed her entire body. She shampooed her hair until she removed the dirt from it and left it scented.

Kaoru knocked at the door to inform her that she was leaving a change of clothes for her outside. She heard the older woman tsked, which only meant she was handling her filthy laundry. "I don't think you'll be able to salvage this," she said through the door. "I'll try to dry it, but you take it to Koike-san and see if he can fix it."

"N-No!" she said suddenly, heart skipping a beat. "I can do it! Don't tell master about this!"

She wanted to keep its ruin from her master. It was a gift. It was his finest gift to her. He had never made a kimono for her. Since he had bought her debt from the teahouse, he had told her she would be making the clothes and kimono she intended to wear for everyday use and for special occasions. The daunting task had been a horrifying experience the first two years, full of pricked, bandaged fingers and articles of clothing that better resembled sacks of potatoes. Every year after that had been an experience, picking up a new skill and perfecting it, and producing better, wearable clothes.

He had instilled the fact that he would never be making a kimono for her by saying, "I handle only the finest silks and make beautiful kimono from them. The women that wear the kimono I design and craft with these hands"—and he had made a gesture to make his point—"are wives and daughters of lords and daimyos. You are a girl I found working as a servant in a brothel."

He cut a clean difference between her and women of status then, a reality she was aware of, despite her cognizance making no difference. But she would be making kimono for those women one day and they would be beautiful, and it would not matter that she came from unfortunate circumstances.

However, her master made her a kimono, one he constructed with the hands he prized, and it was beautiful, more so than any other she had seen him craft. It was made of the finest, most expensive silk printed with a stretch of apple blossoms surrounded by a soft tone that enhanced their beauty. It was the greatest gift she had ever received.

Staring down at it inside the rectangular basket, Itoko mourned its loss, but she withheld her tears though they fought to break free.

Itoko took the kimono to her master's workspace, a spacious room upstairs that had once been two before the shoji dividing them were removed. There were two long worktables and shelves holding different colored tanmono.

She set the square basket in front of her master and lowered her head in shame once she took her seat on the cushion across him. Koike Tetsuo peered into the hamper, raising a quizzical eyebrow. Her master was a stout man with gray hair and a squared jaw.

He reached into the basket to draw the kimono up for closer inspection and clicked his tongue, a sign of evident disapproval.

She felt mortified and equally anxious to hear a verdict on the ruined piece. Her stomach twisted into painful lumps as her hands gripped the fabric of her plum-colored workpants.

"It can be dyed," he said, finally, in a voice that sounded neither optimistic nor angry. As relieving as that was, she feared a possible misinterpretation. "The color will set if we take it apart, but it will lose its print."

Itoko pressed her lips together and nodded firmly, unable to speak a word.

"The weather is a deceptive thing, Itoko," Koike began, setting the sodden dress back into the basket and folding his arms over his wide chest. "I have leftover tanmono from a previous job. I will make you another. Better than this one."

She bit down on her lips, trying to keep the emotion at bay. It threatened to overflow as her eyes brimmed with tears and her hunched shoulders begun to tremble. She did not wish to speak and sound like a whining child, so she steeled herself. She breathed in deeply and out, feeling her chest rise and fall, until the worst of her anxiety subsided.

However…

"I am unworthy," she bawled, too emotional to keep up appearances, and bowed deeply. "I am unworthy, master."

She heard him sigh audibly before his large hand settled atop the back of her head.

"There's no need for your dramatics. Get up, girl," he said gruffly. "We have work to do."

She apologized for wasting his time before gathering herself to help in whatever manner she could. Her master handed her a piece of a torn scroll with a list of new orders, which she skimmed finding several familiar names that belonged to the nobility within the country. There were a couple of new names.

"There is a priestess in the Fire Country in need of new robes for a ceremony," Koike started. "I am going to need"—as soon as he spoke these words, Itoko reached for a brush and scroll to jot down everything—"white and red tanmono. I need sheer silk in both colors as well."

"What kind of ceremony will it be?" Itoko asked curiously. There were many kinds of ceremonies a priestess performed, and in those cases, her master was known to receive enough orders to keep him busy for months. It struck her a bit strange to hear only one priestess was asking for new robes.

"She is performing a marriage ceremony," Koike answered, sifting through a flat drawer filled with tanmono. "There isn't a set date, so we have time to make it."

"Can a priestess perform such a ceremony?"

Koike waved his hand in dismissal. "She is of the Sun Country where things are done differently."

"Did she say anything about a wedding kimono?"

Itoko asked only because she had never seen one made and if her master had the opportunity, she would have requested to see, though there was little chance he would allow her to be present for that sort of job. He liked to shoulder the complicated jobs on his own, preferring to teach her at a moderate pace so she would not be overwhelmed by harder work.

"No."

"Do you think there will be?"

"I will tell you if there is."

Koike gathered two tanmono of the same shade with different patterns. "I will need you to make a small journey to Okui-sama's castle in the west. His daughter requested I make her a new wardrobe. You will be taking her measurements and offer her your services in choosing fabric."

"What about the tanmono you need for all these orders?"

"Leave the scroll there for Kaoru-san."

Itoko nodded dutifully. Lord Okui's castle sat in the neighboring province and the journey would take five days to complete on foot from the small town where the minshuku resided.

"Fujihara-san is taking merchandise to the west," Koike informed. "He offered to take you all the way to the castle. He is leaving tomorrow morning. Go ready your things. Pack enough for weeks. This should accommodate you for some time."

He placed an envelope bulging with money into her hand.

She stared down at it oddly before meeting his brown eyes. "Will you need me for anything?"

"No, go."

When she did not budge, he ushered her to the door and rushed her out.

"Do not stand there like a fool! Go!" he ordered, sliding the door shut in her face.

Itoko jolted and ambled to her room down the hall to start packing a bag for an extended stay. She folded several changes of clothes inside with all her necessities along with her sewing kit and the money her master had given her. Once she finished packing, she set it aside on one of the shelves in her closet and went back to her master's workplace. She offered to help, but he dismissed her.

She walked downstairs to help Kaoru prepare supper and to set the table once it was done. She also brought her master's share upstairs as he preferred eating alone in the tiny adjacent room beside his workroom.

Itoko ate with Kaoru in the kitchen downstairs where the staff used to eat when the minshuku had been in business.

"Are you excited to go?" asked Kaoru. "This is the first time you travel on your own, isn't it?"

"I am a little nervous," Itoko admitted. "I have never traveled without my master."

"I think you should see this as an achievement. He trusts your ability enough to send you to do a fitting. You have come a long way, Itoko." Kaoru covered her hand, brushing her thumb against it. "I'm proud of you."

Itoko smiled, embarrassed. "Thank you, Akiyoshi-san."

Kaoru taught her what she perceived would have been a mother's love had Itoko been given the chance to meet her own.

"Have you packed all your necessities?" asked Kaoru. "Bring me your bag. I want to make sure you have everything you'll need."

"I promise I packed everything," Itoko assured.

"_Itoko._"

Pouting, Itoko rose from her seat to retrieve her pack and discarded it in front of Kaoru.

She was as overbearing as one expected from a mother. She was a complete worrywart that would have followed Itoko to Lord Okui's castle if her master had not forbidden it earlier.

As soon as she opened her bag, Kaoru found she forgot to pack a handkerchief.

"It's only a handkerchief, Akiyoshi-san," Itoko reasoned. "I would have remembered to pack an extra tomorrow."

"You forgot to pack herbs for your stomach," Kaoru said. "You know how nervous you get in new places."

There was no sense in arguing with Kaoru, so Itoko let her go on about everything she had forgotten and suggestions on what would be a good idea to take with her. By the end of the day, Itoko heaved her bag up the stairs and onto the shelf in the closet, knowing it weighed twice as much than it had when she prepared it.

* * *

The following morning, Kaoru saw her to the neighbor's house where he awaited her arrival. Fujihara Eishi was a small old man with barely a wisp of hair atop his head and a bristly gray mustache. He was taking his eldest grandson, Ryuuji, a tall, lanky boy with broad shoulders and a crop of brown hair he pulled back into a low ponytail. Itoko had shared several years of friendship with Fujihara's grandson, though they had had their tumultuous start, they had eventually learned to become good friends to one another.

Ryuuji greeted Itoko and helped her onto the back of the wagon where she would ride with him and the merchandise.

"Wouldn't you prefer riding in the front with your grandfather?" asked Kaoru, as the two men made final adjustments to see that everything was strapped properly.

"Grandfather can be very stubborn," he answered, smiling. "He wanted to have complete control of the reins."

Kaoru nodded. "Very true."

"You don't have to worry about Terashima," Ryuuji assured. "I'll make sure she makes it to Okui's castle safely."

"Thank you, Ryuuji-kun."

"I could even go with her into the castle," Ryuuji suggested.

"Oh, I would never ask you away from your duties," Kaoru said. "Your grandfather will certainly need your help."

"Take him!" Fujihara grumbled. "He wasn't even invited!"

Ryuuji grimaced. "I offered to help you, the least you can do is appreciate it!"

"I refused you!"

Itoko prepared herself for the journey, certain the argument would continue throughout it.

Kaoru guiltily shrugged when Fujihara announced they would be going, promising to see to it that Itoko made it safely to her destination. With one final embrace, Itoko said her farewells to Kaoru, who stood off the side of the road looking as if she were biting back tears.

"It feels like I am going away forever," Itoko said, hoping she was imagining things.

"Well, you never travel without Koike-san," Ryuuji replied. "Akiyoshi is worried someone might kidnap you and that she will never see you again."

"That can happen even if I am traveling with my master."

Ryuuji shook his head. "Koike-san is too harsh looking. People would likely believe him to have done the kidnapping."

She almost laughed and covered her mouth to keep her from the temptation of doing so as she did not wish to disrespect her master by it.

"You have nothing to worry about with us," Ryuuji said. He jabbed his thumb in the direction of his grandfather, who sat in the front of the wagon guiding the single horse through the winding road west of their town, and finished, "With that old man's face, nobody would dare kidnap you."

Fujihara defended his honor, and though, Itoko had predicted their earlier argument to persist throughout their journey, it was the one about his face that prevailed over all the minor ones that followed. Truth be told, traveling with Ryuuji and Fujihara meant there was never a dull moment, but it ended faster than she anticipated.

One minute they were leaving their hometown, and the next Fujihara was pointing to high castle where Lord Okui and his family resided before dropping her off.

Itoko stood in front of the gates of Lord Okui's castle, a traditional structure with two shorter interconnected buildings, each with black tiled roofs. Fujihara had given her directions to a nearby inn where she could stay at a cheap price and a map if she came to need it.

She startled when the doorway through the heavy wooden gates opened and a short, balding man with a hooknose appeared.

"What do you want?" he demanded with a glare. She noted the hint of an accent, though he seemed to be disguising it, making it hard for her to discern it.

Itoko clutched her luggage in front of her, aware that its weight was making her slouch. She straightened. "I'm Terashima Itoko," she introduced, bowing deeply. "I'm Koike Tetsuo's apprentice. I am here—"

"Ah, the kimono maker," he said gruffly, "Come in, come in, Kameko-sama has been expecting you."

The balding man rushed her into a wide courtyard where a pair of women in plain kimono and white aprons carrying buckets toppled with laundry bowed their heads, greeting him as "Motoki-san."

Looking around, Itoko noticed the presence of men dressed in dark hues wearing the symbol of a red and white fan on their backs wandering the courtyard. She saw more men wearing the crest walking past her and Motoki to reach the entrance after she entered the castle. The sight of them distracted her from admiring the intricate structure within the castle, though she had visited many castles since her apprenticeship began, but this one in particular was especially well crafted from the inside out.

Motoki took her up three flights of stairs, remaining at the top of the stairs when they reached the third floor. He gestured her forward. "Kameko-sama should be in the room at the end of this hall. You will find her personal assistant, Aine. She's a small girl with yellow hair. She will introduce you. Go on now."

Itoko nodded, feeling anxious as she walked on ahead while Motoki descended the stairs, grumbling to himself. There were more men on that floor with the two-colored fan on the back of their dark clothes, but she was still reeling from the beauty of the building's interior—the rice paper doors along the hallway, the seemingly endless stairs going upward, the spotless, wooden beams above her head, and the long hallways.

She reached the end of the hall where she found a small girl with short, golden hair slumped against the wall sleeping. She looked over her shoulder to see the area behind her cleared and placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, startling her awake.

"Who are you?" asked the girl.

"Terashima Itoko," she answered politely, "I'm Koike Tetsuo's apprentice. I came to take Kameko-sama's measurements."

The girl stood abruptly with a gasp. "We were not expecting you to arrive this quickly," she admitted. "I'm Aine."

Itoko bowed. "Nice to meet you."

"The young mistress should be in her room," Aine said, moving to stand in front of the doorway next to her. She reached for the shoji as she was looking at Itoko. "I'll introduce you."

She slid the shoji apart, formulating the sounds in her mistress's name while turning fully to the room, and giving Itoko the first glance at the woman in question, except, she was naked and wrapped up in the passionate embrace of an equally naked man.

Itoko's face flamed as Aine screamed in horror, distracting the lovers from one another. Itoko covered her eyes to spare the mistress any more humiliation.

"Mistress, I apo—"

"Will you shut the door, you stupid girl!" Lady Kameko shouted, hysterical.

Aine sunk to her knees to beg for forgiveness, apologizing to her mistress religiously while Kameko's lover burst into laughter.

"Why are you laughing?" the lady demanded. "Get out! Get out this instant!"

"Oh? You mean me?" asked the laughing man.

"Yes, you! Out!"

Itoko heard a lot of movement blending in with Lady Kameko's screeching and Aine's groveling, followed by the sound of footsteps rushing past the entrance.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, push her gently off to the side. "Excuse me."

Itoko pulled her hands from her face, catching a glimpse of the man's eyes, dark like onyx and powerful, likely capable of reading a person as one read the contents of a book. She unconsciously lowered her eyes only to pull her gaze up to the back of his dark head as he reached for the two shoji screens and slid them shut before one of Lady Kameko's pillows slammed against it.

The lady yelled in her frustration.

Aine sat by the door bawling, pleading for her mistress' mercy between sobs, while the naked man in front of Itoko turned to her with a smile.

"Can you hold this?" he asked politely, holding out his crumpled clothes.

Itoko dumbly reached out to take them, nodding.

"I'm Uchiha Izuna, by the way," he introduced as he tugged on his pants. "Do you have a name?"

"Terashima Itoko," she answered slowly, surprised to have found her voice despite her shock. She wasn't aware Lady Kameko was married. She also wondered why the name 'Uchiha' sounded familiar.

"Kameko-sama!" Aine wailed.

"Go away, Aine!" Lady Kameko yelled from within the room.

As Izuna took the last article of clothing from her hands and pulled on his high-collared shirt, Itoko became aware of the white and red fan printed on his back.

"Uchiha," she murmured, drawing his attention.

"Hm?"

"Oh!" It finally clicked in her mind why the name sounded familiar because the Uchiha clan was one of the deadliest shinobi clans in the world and as the thought dawn in her head, she looked at him worriedly. "Are you taking over this castle?"

Izuna laughed, clapping her on the shoulder before he walked away from her and Aine.

Itoko felt her face burn in embarrassment, unsure whether his laughter meant he was or wasn't.

* * *

[**1**] A kimonoya is store that sells tanmono.

[**2**] A kiseru is a Japanese smoking pipe.

[**3**] Kizami is shredded tobacco.

[**4**] Tanmono is the fabric roll used to make kimono. The bolt of fabric comes at about 12 meters in length and 36 centimeters in width and it is enough for a single kimono.

[**5**] A minshuku would be the Japanese version of a bed and breakfast. It is usually a family home with spare rooms and can be found in towns or villages that are too small for a ryokan (a traditional inn).


	2. A Master Manipulator

**02** – A Master Manipulator

* * *

Lady Kameko made it difficult for Itoko to do her work. Itoko tried to give the heiress space, hoping that once she was ready to go through with her order, Lady Kameko would summon Itoko to take her measurements.

Today was the morning of the eighth day since Itoko's arrival and Aine was seconds from intercepting her path.

"Terashima-san," Aine called, inclining her head politely.

Itoko paused, putting on her best smile. She hated how incompetent she felt in her situation with Lady Kameko. The noblewoman was avoiding Itoko, consistently excusing herself to entertain social engagements, which consisted of lounging in her room or taking walks with Uchiha Izuna.

Lady Kameko was far from busy; she was the embodiment of free time. In fact, Itoko believed the lady was determined to drag out what should have been a three-day job (at most) to test whether or not she would keep her mouth shut after what she had the misfortune of seeing.

Itoko was not at all interested in Lady Kameko's private life, no matter how scandalous it seemed for a person of her standing to be sleeping with a shinobi. Itoko had no prior knowledge of Lord Okui's family other than the location of his castle. That Uchiha Izuna could very well be Lady Kameko's husband. It would definitely explain the amount of Uchiha shinobi patrolling the castle grounds. It wasn't completely unheard of either. More and more shinobi clans were creating marriage ties with provinces to stake a claim on the territory governed by a lesser lord. She lived in one such province since Lord Shinjo agreed to have his eldest daughter marry the heir of the Oniyuri clan five years ago and his decision had since ensured the protection of his territory.

"Good morning, Aine-san," Itoko greeted, meeting the yellow-haired servant halfway. "Has Kameko-sama sent for me?"

Aine's eyes shifted from side to side, checking that nobody was around. "Ah, no," she said, reaching into the pocket of her long apron to procure an envelope. "She asked me to give you this, for your trouble."

Itoko's heart sank as she reached to take the envelope feeling the familiar shape of tightly packed money. "Oh, okay"

"She apologizes for having wasted your time and hopes this will be enough compensation for it," Aine continued, bright eyed but fidgeting.

Each word was another knot tightening in Itoko's stomach. This was the first time her master allowed her to travel anywhere on her own and she found a way to ruin it, despite his faith in her.

Itoko nodded, swallowing hard. "Okay, I understand."

"Don't worry, Terashima-san"—Itoko wanted to cry if the next words that followed involved employment elsewhere—"I am sure Kameko-sama will become available soon for the fittings. You see, she has received many social calls as of late and she has not found the time to work with you."

"Oh."

Aine smiled sweetly. "She wanted to make sure you had some spending money, so she gave you an advance on your pay so that you can go out and enjoy yourself instead of staying cooped up in the castle. There are many places you can visit that aren't too far."

Itoko nearly sighed with relief. She had not ruined anything. Lady Kameko was only avoiding her. She could excuse that. She was embarrassed. Itoko saw everything that woman had to offer, even knew she had a small birthmark under her right breast, and while she was immune to the sight of naked women due to having grown up exposed to them engaging in filthier acts than Lady Kameko and Izuna, the lady was not. Any noble woman would have screamed in her position and labeled the Lady Kameko as scandalous and shameless.

"She asked me to inform you that she sent a letter of apology to Koike-san for needing to keep you this long," Aine finished.

"Give her my gratitude," Itoko said, finding a real smile.

Aine cast a glance over Itoko's shoulder, bowed her head politely, and excused herself, skittering away toward the end of the hallway where she disappeared.

Itoko stared down at the envelope and curiously peered inside it since it felt like quite a sum of money when a hand seized her by the arm.

She yelped and was jerked forward, pushed into the wall of an empty room. Before she had a chance to look at the person responsible for the explosion of pain across her back, she felt the pointed end of a thin dagger cold against her cheek.

Itoko froze when she recognized the soft, brown curls that framed the oval-shaped face of Lady Kameko and lifted her eyes off the ground to meet her narrowed, blue eyes. The room smelled dusty and the cobwebs were transparent in the thin stream of light filtering in from the parted shoji. It looked like the perfect place to stab a person in the face and leave them to agonize until they bled to death. Itoko hoped Lady Kameko wanted to show her the new dagger she bought. Maybe she wanted a matching outfit, so she would be leaving it behind as a reference.

Itoko's eyes wandered. She could see the envelope sitting behind the door's threshold, spilling a little of its contents before the pointed object drew her attention to the castle's lady. Her heart strummed noisily with dread.

"Kameko-sama," she said, remembering to breathe, "would you like me to take your measurements now? My tools are right in the other room if you would let me get them."

Itoko took a step forward, but she was shoved back into the wall, surprised by the woman's strength. "You know why I'm here, peasant!"

"I would have apologized earlier for walking in on you and your husband—"

"My _husband_?"

Lady Kameko sounded a little insulted by her assumption and it suddenly made sense, even the slim dagger pointed at her face.

"Ohhh."

Itoko smelled a scandal. There were plenty at the teahouse where she had worked as a child with some of the companions becoming pregnant with the children of noblemen and some noblemen running away with their companions or marrying them. There was a rumor that a daimyo married a prostitute from that particular establishment, but the only person old enough to confirm or deny it hated everyone and would say nothing about it.

"What is with that tone?" Lady Kameko demanded, putting the blade too close to Itoko's eye.

"N-nothing! It was an innocent reaction, I promise!" Itoko blurted. "I won't breathe a word of it!"

"That's correct, peasant, you won't," Lady Kameko threatened. "And if I learn that you have, I will order you silenced!"

To prove her point, Kameko drew the sharp edge of her blade across Itoko's cheek making her body tremble in response. She sucked in a breath as she bore the pain of her flesh being cut, as small as the result would be. Blood beaded along the small cut, reddening the skin around it with its taint, as the blade left her skin.

Lady Kameko drew back, wiping the blood from her dagger with a handkerchief. She picked up the fallen envelope and tossed it at Itoko's chest. Itoko caught it against her torso, feeling a few of the bills spill out and flutter to the ground.

"That should be enough to keep you quiet," Lady Kameko said. "Don't think you can get more out of me. If you try, I'll do more than just leave a scratch on your face."

Itoko swallowed the lump in her throat. She stared at the lady rather intently, to the point it seemed to have annoyed her.

"What?" Lady Kameko snapped.

"Should I take your measurements now?" Itoko asked curiously.

"Did Aine tell you nothing? I will summon you when I have the time!" Lady Kameko headed for the door, exasperated. "The nerve of you!"

"I apologize." Itoko bowed low, waiting until the woman was gone to lift her head.

Itoko reached up to touch her cheek and watched her fingers come away with blood, making her reach inside her own pocket for the patterned handkerchief Akiyoshi reminded her to pack. She pressed the folded cloth to her cheek and slipped out of the room, sliding the door shut. She returned to her room to see to it that the small cut was thoroughly cleaned.

She sat in her room a moment and thought about her situation. She was running an errand for her master to take the measurements of a psychotic noblewoman that finished threatening her into keeping quiet about her sexual affair with a shinobi even though it was none of her business to shop that gossip around. For one, she knew better than to mess with a shinobi, and two, she was not a fan of spreading gossip. Listening to it was a different story.

Lady Kameko took things too far by threatening her, which put her in a precarious position. She would need to watch herself, so that none of her actions could be misinterpreted as spreading around what she saw even though she wasn't the only one that saw, which led her to wonder if the woman had gone ahead to threaten Aine as well.

Itoko sighed. She was too hungry for all the thinking the situation required and exited the guest room Lady Kameko so graciously offered her, which made better sense as a bribe than the act of kindness she had attached to it. She made her way down to the kitchens where the castle's servants took their meals and found herself the center of attention for her patched up cheek.

"I accidentally cut myself while sewing, I pulled the needle too far back and went right in there," she lied, laughing so everyone's worried faces went away.

The head cook prepared her a tray of that morning's modest breakfast. "Mostly leftovers from yesterday," the man told her, somewhat apologetic. "It's a bit harder feeding everyone with the Uchiha still hanging around here."

"Still?" Itoko questioned. "Were they supposed to have gone?"

"Yes, they were supposed to leave around a week ago," another cook interrupted, round cheeked with curly blond hair. "One of the servant girls said Okui-sama didn't want to agree with their terms and asked they leave."

"But that Uchiha Izuna has got Kameko-sama charmed, so I doubt she'll allow her father to kick them out," a female servant added, leaning into the counter beside Itoko. "He's lovely, isn't he? Nicer than his brother at least."

Everyone's expression soured at the mention of his brother.

"Is his brother mean?" asked Itoko, confused.

"Mean isn't the word," said the head chef, "more like intimidating. The man came about two years or so ago when Okui-sama hired the Uchiha clan when Asahi-sama from the neighboring province threatened to invade the country with the help of the Fūma clan. There was not a colder day in summer. That man had a dangerous presence."

"All the servants skittered past him with their heads lowered, afraid that if they looked him in the eyes they would go mad," the female servant said. "The atmosphere around him was different."

"One of Okui-sama's servants says he's never seen our lord so blatantly terrified of a shinobi before," the round faced cook added, "and they were just sharing a drink."

"You came at a good time, Terashima-san," the head cook said. "If you are going to entertain any Uchiha, you are better off with Izuna."

"Everyone loves him," the servant girl said. "He is nice to everyone. It's a little odd when you think about all the rumors about him. They say he's as fierce in battle as his brother, though. I guess his brother can't turn it off." She shrugged when a kettle whistled and she pulled herself off the counter. "Well, I should finish preparing that tea for our shinobi guests."

"You should take a seat and eat," the head cook said, gesturing to the long table behind him.

Itoko thanked him for the meal and went on her way.

There wasn't much for Itoko to do in Lord Okui's castle. There were plenty of sights to see. His castle was suiting of his stature, high and prominent, surrounded by long roads and a lake. His gardens were expansive, but she decided it would be best to stay within range of her room. She wanted to avoid causing trouble.

She didn't want to go to the kitchens because everyone was working hard to prepare for that afternoon's lunch, as they had over fifty mouths to feed apart from their masters.

Itoko didn't pack anything to keep herself entertained. She only brought what would be necessary for the job. Had she known Lady Kameko would complicate things this much, she would have brought one of the kimonos she was sewing together for practice. She had mended a few of her robes in the first two days. She had never noticed the tears on some of her kimono until she had decided to dig through her pack in search of something to do.

However, there was something. Itoko had been staying in the same floor as the servant's quarters, and during her extended stay had gone for a walk throughout the area's interconnected rooms until she had found an alcove sitting underneath a window. The window faced a pond in the gardens surrounded by fields of trimmed grass and cherry blossoms.

It made a nice distraction.

Itoko headed to the alcove to pass the time, but stopped short after turning the corner to reach it. Uchiha Izuna was sitting in the alcove with the window open. His back was flat against the wall, one elbow propped up on the window with his chin resting in his open palm, and his pale face turned in profile as his eyes stared out into the vast gardens. He was seated comfortably, one foot on the bench, the other on the floor, and his other arm rested over his stomach, surrounded by plush, embroidered pillows.

A small gust of wind fluttered through his spikey, black hair as his eyes left whatever they observed outside and settled on her.

Itoko had a feeling she would be threatened a second time, only it'd be by a scarier person. Not that the Lady Kameko hadn't been frightening enough, this Uchiha was a trained fighter. As a shinobi, he would have likely been fighting since he was old enough to hold a sword and he would have been responsible for many deaths if he had come this far. Most shinobi did not live long enough to grow old, and though he was youthful in appearance, that fact alone spoke volumes of his skill.

Itoko didn't need anyone to tell her she had stepped into the presence of a dangerous man. It wasn't hard to see. Anyone would be scared.

So, she threaded carefully. "I apologize," she said, bowing her head. "I didn't think there was anyone here."

"What happened to your cheek?" Uchiha Izuna asked, surprising her. He pointed to his own as a small gesture.

"I pulled a needle too far back and scratched myself," she lied, feeling nervous.

Izuna stood, walking down the short hallway to reach her. He leaned forward, forcing her to bend her back to stay at a distance. His eyes narrowed in concentration over the tiny cut she received from her earlier encounter with Lady Kameko.

"Not too bad," he said, giving her space. "You already had it treated?"

Itoko nodded. "You shouldn't concern yourself over me."

"Why?" he asked, surprising her.

"I-I'm just an apprentice," she stuttered. "I'm n-not even a part of this household."

"I'm not either," Izuna replied. "Haven't you heard? Okui wants my clan to leave his castle."

Itoko shook her head. She would deny everything she heard in the kitchens.

"Curious?" asked Izuna, smiling.

Again, she shook her head.

"Well, do you plan to stand there all day or did you come to sit?" Izuna asked, making his way back to the seat in the alcove. He plopped down. "Kameko won't come after you with a knife if you talk to me. Not again, at least."

Itoko's heart jolted. "But she didn't!"

"Have you taken her measurements yet?" he asked.

"No, she hasn't summoned me to do so."

"She won't for quite some time," he said. "She's playing with you. Wasting your time, telling you that she sent a letter to your master even though she didn't. She's intercepting all the messages you're sending to him as well. Also, the social engagements she's been boasting of are nonexistent. I don't know how news travels in your little town, but Kameko's a social pariah."

Itoko stared at him wide-eyed. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I feel a little responsible."

"But this has nothing to do with you," she said, as politely as one could say such a statement.

"I recommended Koike Tetsuo to Kameko when she decided she wanted new clothes," he replied. "Had I not mentioned this, you would not be here in his stead hounding her for her measurements. I could take those for you if you'd like. I'm quite good with a measuring tape."

She bet he was. "No, that's fine. I can do it myself." She watched him lean back into his seat, against the corner in the alcove with a pillow at his back. "So, do you often make orders with my master?"

"No, I have a friend that loves his work," Izuna said. "She's a priestess. I believe she put in an order recently."

Itoko remembered her master going over a need for red and white fabric. "Oh, for a wedding ceremony," she said, amazed to realize she was having an ordinary conversation with him. All prior experience she had had with shinobi had not been as gracious as this. "Is someone getting married?" She felt the rest of the words dying in her throat when his dark eyes met her gaze. She fidgeted, reminding herself to watch her mouth. "If you don't mind me asking, I mean."

"My brother."

"Huh?"

"My older brother is getting married." Izuna smiled kindly, easing the tension in her body. "Don't be so scared about asking questions. They're just questions after all."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You don't have to apologize either," he whispered back, both hands cupped at his lips. "We're among friends."

She caught herself about to apologize again, which made him chuckle.

He patted the space beside him. "Come on, sit."

Itoko was a little reluctant.

"If you don't sit, I'll just have to stand up and we can stand and stay uncomfortable for the rest of this conversation," Izuna warned, standing after a few seconds. "Fine, we'll just stand here. It'll look all that more suspicious when someone sees us together and you run away."

"I'll sit!" Itoko blurted, moving forward to take a tentative seat on one side of the small bench in the alcove.

"Good."

Izuna joined her.

The alcove was not made for two people to sit inside it. She realized it now that their shoulders and legs were pressing against one another, but she was too nervous to move.

"So, your brother is getting married," Itoko began awkwardly. She didn't think it'd be proper to sit there in silence and she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Yes, he just doesn't know it yet."

"Huh?"

"He's in love with this girl, but he refuses to be with her," Izuna elaborated. "She's acting just as stupid as him, by the way. They're in love with each other, like ridiculously in love. They're just being idiots by ignoring it."

"Why are they being stupid?"

Izuna shot her a curious look, pausing. "Can I trust you?"

"Eh?"

"Yes, can I trust you? Even though you've already lied to me twice?"

Itoko's stomach dropped. "What?"

"When I asked about the cut on your face and if you had heard about Okui wanting to run my clan out of his castle, you lied."

She turned her face, inching away uncomfortably. She hadn't lied maliciously. She only wanted to stay out of trouble.

"So, can I trust you with this?"

"You shouldn't have to trust me with anything," Itoko said, finding a bit of courage to look at his face. "Not if you don't want to."

"I'm in love with her, too," Izuna said after a long pause. "That's the reason."

Itoko swallowed hard. "Oh?"

"It sounds awful, doesn't it?" Izuna asked, his eyes staring into the hallway. He leaned forward, exhaling deeply. "It's not as bad as it sounds, actually. The worst is over. I rather they be happy together than miserable apart and I don't want her to marry me just because she feels obligated to make me happy. That'd be terrible, wouldn't it?"

She stared at his profile, confused as to why he would tell her any of this. They were two complete strangers that met by pure coincidence. If this had been the quick job as it should have been, they would have only seen each other that one time and never again. This felt too private to divulge.

"If they carry on as they have, they'll never get around to getting married, so I've decided to make them do it," Izuna said proudly. "I picked a good time, too. There's this man on our Council that keeps dropping hints that my brother should find a wife. In fact, he's actually gone the extra mile and started interviewing potential wives."

"Is there a special requirement to being a shinobi's wife?" Itoko blurted, genuinely curious.

"You would have to come from a good family," Izuna started. "Shinobi don't have love matches, they marry for convenience, like noble families who always try marrying higher. We are actually looking for potential allies, so any skilled shinobi family would do, so long as they have someone of any stature that we can marry someone off to. Apart from that, there's not much one can look for."

"Oh, so it's better to go with an advantageous marriage in your world, like the Oniyuri clan in my province."

Izuna nodded. "Exactly like the Oniyuri clan."

"So, is your brother's marriage advantageous?"

"No. It is about the worst match he could ever make."

"Why? Is this girl a commoner?"

"Not at all. She's from one of the oldest shinobi clans, deeply respected, but—"

"Izuna-sama."

The new voice startled Itoko. She turned swiftly to the hallway to see one of Izuna's shinobi standing by, stock still with a fearsome expression.

Izuna got out of his seat, politely excusing himself. He met his shinobi, who spoke quickly to him in a voice so softy, Itoko could not imagine anyone could hope to hear at her distance.

"Take three men with you," Izuna ordered. "Before you go make sure you tell Makio to make sure everyone stays on guard."

The shinobi nodded, quickly vanishing.

Izuna walked back to her, his expression as friendly as before. "Well, I've wasted enough of your time," he said. "I should let you go back to doing whatever you were going to do before I interrupted."

"Ah, no, you didn't interrupt."

"I'll make sure you get finished here quickly."

"But Kameko-sama is—"

"Leave Kameko to me, I can get her to listen," he promised. "Just go back to your room."

Itoko rose from her seat, sidling past him, her eyes still on him. "Thank you."

She bowed her head and turned away, walking down the short hallway.

"Oh, I forgot to say it before, but it's nice meeting you," Izuna called, gesturing her back. When she made her way to him, he continued. "And I should apologize for burdening you with my problems. My priestess friend suggested I make new friends. I never figured I had stopped meeting new people until she mentioned it, so I was a little nervous and blurted everything out."

"You were nervous?" she asked. He didn't seem like the type that'd get nervous.

"Well, you did see me naked."

Itoko's face flushed red instantly. "I didn't mean to! I swear I didn't see anything interesting!"

Izuna laughed, clapping her on the shoulder. "You're funny, Terashima-san."

She wanted to melt into the ground. She couldn't believe she just finished telling him she hadn't seen anything interesting. That was just insulting. She did try to keep her eyes above his waist the entire time until Lady Kameko had thrown him out of her room as well. She might have caught a glimpse below the waist. Just a glimpse, but she forgot about it.

"I should be going," Izuna said, "but I've told you something private, now you have to tell me something next time we meet, good? After that, we can officially become friends."

"Friends?"

"Didn't you hear what I said? My priestess friend said I needed to make new friends," he repeated. "I agree. Everyone I know is an eavesdropper that can't keep a secret."

Izuna walked past her, leaving her alone in that hallway to think for a moment. She was surprised to hear he wanted to be friends.

"What kind of private thing am I supposed to tell him?" she asked, aloud. She didn't have anything as interesting as his. He told her his brother was going to get married to the girl they were both in love with. How could she have anything to measure up to that depth? Was she supposed to give him an equally weighted secret? Or could it be anything?

Itoko wasn't sure she had any secrets. Did she?

As she walked back to her room as he suggested she did, she realized she was worried about becoming his friend. Did she want to be his friend? She didn't have a lot of them, at least not in her age group, so it wouldn't be a terrible idea to add one to the little list of friends she did have.

She stopped halfway up the stairs. What kind of friend did he want? Did he want another friend like Kameko? If he wanted another Kameko, she didn't know how she felt about that. Wait, did he genuinely want a friend?

"Terashima-san."

Itoko yelped, whirling around to see Aine. She put a hand to her heaving chest. "You scared me!"

"I'm sorry, Terashima-san! I didn't mean to!" Aine cried.

"It's okay. You don't have to apologize," Itoko said. "Is something wrong?"

"The cooks sent me to find you. We wanted you to join us for a drink," Aine said, excited.

"A drink?"

"You don't drink?"

"Well, I've never tried it before."

"Oh, you're going to love it," Aine said, grabbing hold of Itoko's hand and pulled her back down the steps. "Let's go!"

* * *

**xl note**: Sorry it took so long to post the second chapter! This was so not the plan, but then school got in the way, but school's over. I'm going to try to catch this story up to Kintsugi in January. I'll see if I can make it happen.

Yayoi is responsible for this story completely. I hope you caught all of that.

Izuna is definitely up to no good.

The next chapter should really get things moving!

I want to thank everyone to that added this story to their favorite/alert lists and also these wonderful people for reviewing: **colouredred**, **SilverRider09**,** Loteva**, **blob80**, and **SammiRichGurl**. Thank you so much everyone! :D

Thank you for reading!


	3. Seize the Castle

**03** – Seize the Castle

* * *

Itoko started to think that she was taking advantage of Okui Castle's hospitality by accepting Aine's invitation to drink. However, after entering the ample kitchen and sitting among the cooks, their apprentices, the servers, the lord and lady's many attendants, she felt it made for a comfortable setting. Everyone was exceedingly kind and pleasantly vivacious. They created a wonderful environment that promoted complete, utter relaxation and plenty of fun.

Although, Itoko tried to resist the temptation of alcohol, as she was forbidden by her master to so much as taste it, she caught herself accepting a tiny, ceramic cup of sake from Aine, who carried the round, white jug of it with her as she found a seat beside her. The others were engaging in a plethora of lively, drunken activities: arm wrestling contests, drinking challenges, inappropriate gossip, and out-of-tune singing. There was a lot of singing.

Others offered her sake during varying intervals, but she politely refused them. She sat in one corner of the room, enjoying herself for the greater portion of the evening, but when Aine had gone off to bring more alcohol, Itoko had asked for a cup. Aine had teetered away, clumsily ambling through the large crowd of people. After the nightmare that had been her stay, Itoko had decided that it was a proper opportunity to indulge in alcohol.

Itoko could only stare at the clear, rippling liquid in her cup after receiving it. Aine set the bottle on the floor before rising to join a scandalous conversation about Lord Okui being fronted by his male attendant—a freckled man with a cocksure grin and pale blue eyes that she caught glimpsing in her direction on several occasions. Itoko assumed he was taken by Aine's delicate beauty, but he looked over twice after the blond girl joined his small crowd of people and Itoko checked her clothes for stains, as well as combed back a few loose strands of her silver hair, worried her somewhat sloppy appearance caught his attention.

"I think he likes you."

Itoko flushed after realizing Izuna had plopped down beside her. She never expected to see him there surrounded by a large portion of the kitchen staff, but he seemed to blend in, even though he seemed to be the only one dressed in black. A minute had not passed since he had taken Aine's seat when he was offered a drink.

Izuna glimpsed at her. "You don't think so?"

"I prefer not assume," said Itoko shyly. "I believe a person with such feelings would be honest about them."

"Not everyone is honest," answered Izuna.

"I know that."

"Why bring it up then?"

Itoko stared at the surface of her drink and set it down on the nearest table. "Because it isn't kind to make assumptions."

"You don't understand," said Izuna, leaning forward. "Look at him. He keeps looking at you. He's probably been at it since you first entered the room. Also, he's gotten a little keener since I sat down beside you. My reputation is probably a little threatening, plus, it doesn't help that all the alcohol in your system gave a bit of coloring to your cheeks, so you look flushed, as if my charm is working on you. He's waiting for me to leave. And when I do, he'll approach you. He'll introduce himself, offer you another drink, he'll smile, ask you about all the things you like, maybe you'll have something in common, he'll point it out to you, and the night won't end without him mentioning that he likes the color of your hair or that your eyes are really beautiful. And if he's piqued your interest enough, you'll humor him."

She blinked. "Humor him?"

Izuna laughed, patting her shoulder as he rose. "Yes, humor him, Terashima-san. Now, excuse me, I have somewhere to be."

Itoko watched him slip through the crowd, smiling at everyone that greeted him on his way out. As he did, the freckled attendant made his way to her after apologizing to the people surrounding him, most of the women were not shy about expressing their disappointment. Itoko felt incredibly nervous. Izuna's assumption was right.

"Hello, we haven't met," the attendant began, "I'm Takamura Seiki. Mind if I sit?"

"No, please, go ahead!" she said nervously. He stared at her and her nerves worsened. "Oh, my name is Terashima Itoko. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too. You're here temporarily, yes?"

"Yes."

"Do you want another drink?"

He must have noticed her half-empty cup.

Itoko stared at him a little dumbfounded. Izuna's words still fresh on her mind. "No, no, I'm okay. I think I've had enough."

"So, you make kimono?"

"I help. I'm only an apprentice."

"What do you do as a kimono maker's apprentice?" asked Seiki.

"Not much with my master," Itoko answered with a laugh. "He tends to do everything himself."

"And if he didn't, what would your job entail?"

"Mostly help with the stitching," answered Itoko. "More hands help finish jobs faster. Taking measurements, running errands—I mostly run errands. I buy the fabric." She was speaking too fast. She was too nervous. "But it must be interesting to be the attendant of a lord. Much more interesting than a kimono maker's apprentice."

Seiki smiled. "Not exactly, but it is demanding. Okui-sama that is." He laughed a little. Sheepishly. His cheeks flushed a slight pink that made her smile, though she swiftly recalled Izuna's comment on finding a reason to humor him. "It isn't to say I do not appreciate my job, I do enjoy it. The servant's quarters are nice, there is never a need for food, and the other employees are friendly."

"Of course," said Itoko. She suddenly became quite aware of him. She was conscious of him from the second he filled the seat beside her, Izuna had taken care of that with a monologue on what she should expect after being approached from him, but her new awareness of him made her more than a little nervous of his presence. "Of course. The atmosphere here is warm. Everyone has been very friendly towards me."

She tried not to think about Lady Kameko when she said that, but she had and of the sharp dagger that she had used to threaten her into a silence with which she had already burden herself without her violent insistence.

"Yes, yes, they are indeed."

"Uhm, how long have you been serving Okui-sama?" she asked, drinking to sooth her embarrassment.

"About ten years now," he answered.

"How old were you?" Itoko flushed, wondering if asking for his age was inappropriate. "I mean, you look very young."

He chuckled. "I arrived here when I was twelve with my mother. I was meant to work at the stables, but Okui-sama needed an attendant after his met with an unfortunate accident. Anyone could have been chosen, really, but I suppose I was just lucky."

"Oh, you mother works here?"

"She was Kameko-sama's nanny growing up."

"_Was_?"

"She passed away six years ago."

"I'm sorry," said Itoko, eyes downcast.

"It was quite some time ago," he told her. "What about you? How did you come to be a kimono maker's apprentice?"

"I used to work in a teahouse," she answered vaguely. She didn't like telling people the whole story because they were quick to assume what sort of job she had in such an establishment. "I was useless in my job and was constantly being yelled at for my mistakes. My master chanced upon the shop during one of his travels and offered me a job. I was elated by the opportunity, but I was quite useless at that as well."

"And your parents?"

"I don't remember them."

The briefest silence passed between them while the others in their surroundings continued to enjoying themselves in their drunken bubbles.

"I just ruined the mood, didn't I?" asked Seiki, covering his reddened face. "I apologize."

"No, no you don't need to apologize," she assured. She did agree, however, that the conversation grew heavier as it delved into their respective pasts, but she did not think the mood was ruined, nor did she want to stop talking to him unless he wanted to. She saw no reason for his apology.

Seiki faced her, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. His cheeks were bright red. "I'm very bad at making conversation."

"You're better at than I," said Itoko jokingly. "I never know where to start."

He laughed. "We should probably change the subject then and try again."

She nodded.

Like Izuna had told her, Seiki asked about the things she liked and they discovered that they were fond of a number of dishes as well as the writer of a discontinued series of books. When Itoko felt the dizziness of the alcohol begin to make her somnolent, Seiki offered to escort her back to her guest room.

Itoko shook her head, refusing politely. The last thing she wanted to do was steal him away from the party when there were others waiting to have their turn at conversing with him. "It's close by," she told him. "I can make it there well on my own, but thank you for offering."

With an understanding nod, he let her go. "Sleep well, Terashima-san."

Itoko slipped through the crowd and exited into the quiet hallway outside the kitchen. She walked towards her guest room, calmly teetering in her slightly inebriated state.

She started to hear voices the closer she was to her room and slowed down on instinct, reconsidering the path she had taken. She didn't want her presence to be a burden if someone in the connecting hallway was having a serious conversation, but she feared that if she turned down a different direction, she would end up lost. She wasn't quite as knowledgeable of the castle as she would have liked. Also, the Uchiha patrolling the place intimidated her.

Itoko braced herself as she prepared to walk across the hallway and kept her eyes forward, but as she started to cross, a familiar giggle reached her ears. Unconsciously, she looked at the pair of lovers standing in the threshold of the back entrance. She recognized the soft tumble of brown curls that fell across milky white skin and the sharp obsidian gaze that met hers in the brief seconds it had taken her to make it onto the other side.

It might have been a quick glimpse, but she had seen Lady Kameko canoodling with Uchiha Izuna once more. He noticed her, made eye contact with her as his lips moved against Lady Kameko's, and a shiver strummed down her spine. Her cheeks were enflamed.

Itoko made it to her guest room swiftly and sat with her back to the door, holding her chest as her heart drummed rampantly. She urged it to calm. Never had she ever experienced such a powerful reaction to having seen that sort of act.

She blamed the sake. That had to be the reason why her heard didn't stop pounding. There was no other explanation. All she needed to do was drink water, lay out the futon, change into her sleeping robe, and go to sleep. She repeated everything back to herself as she left the door to do it, though the image kept replaying in her mind of Izuna's eyes finding hers across the hall, so deep and black—never had such eyes existed to her.

Itoko had trouble waking up the following morning, but she had managed to drag herself out of bed to start her day. She decided never to drink again if drinking meant waking up with a pounding headache, a sudden sensitivity to bright light, and nausea.

The kitchen's workers laughed when she entered to have her breakfast and pointed out that she looked as though she had been dragged through the mud. She believed it. She felt as though she had been.

"Drink water, lots of it," she was told. "It'll help."

So, she drank as much as she could before Aine appeared with a message from Lady Kameko. "She wants you to take her measurements now."

The only thought that passed through Itoko's mind was "finally" because she was starting to miss home. She excitedly went to fetch her things and followed Aine upstairs to see Lady Kameko.

"How are you feeling?" asked Aine.

"I have a bit of a headache, but I'm okay," answered Itoko. "I've never had a real drink before."

"I almost feel bad about giving you that drink," Aine replied, sheepish.

"It's okay," she assured. "It was fun."

"Oh, but I saw you talking with Takamura-kun for most of the night," said Aine, elbowing her with a grin on her face. "I think he likes you."

"But we just met. Isn't it too early to say one likes a person?"

"Well, I do know that he thinks you're beautiful."

Itoko blushed, lowering her eyes to the floor. "That's silly."

"He's a good man," Aine told her. "You should go for it."

"Go for it?"

"Let him woo you."

Itoko shook her head. "I couldn't—"

"Do you have someone else back home?" asked Aine, her smile brimming with curiosity. "What is he like?"

"No, I don't have anyone," she replied. "I've just never thought about that."

Aine froze in the middle of the staircase. "About what?"

"About being with anyone."

Instead of acting shocked as others had reacted before her, Aine placed a hand on Itoko's shoulder and smiled. "There's nothing wrong with that. Everyone's different. You have to keep your priorities straight, right?"

Itoko nodded, smiling. She definitely wanted to be a kimono maker before she thought about starting a family. Even then, she wasn't sure if she wanted to start one. Maybe making beautiful kimono for her future customers would be enough. She didn't know. She felt too young to make decisions about the future, so she kept all options open.

Aine knocked on Lady Kameko's door and waited for her mistress to beckon them inside after the attendant announced to her that she had brought the kimono maker's apprentice to take her measurements. After being ushered in, Aine bowed politely and exited, sealing the doors behind her.

Lady Kameko was already standing and dressed down to the white robe she wore underneath her kimono, ready to get her measurements taken.

Itoko stood in Lady Kameko's presence feeling a little intimidated, her voice was quiet and polite as she said, "Thank you for seeing me today."

Lady Kameko huffed, nose in the air. Whatever looks she spared her were scathing, which made the experience doubly uncomfortable. "Hurry it up. I don't have time to waste."

"I'm sorry."

Frantically, Itoko rummaged through her bag, searching for her measuring tape among strips of sample fabric, needles in a kit, and spools of different colored thread. She panicked for a split instant, thinking she left it behind in the guest room, but found it poking between fabric samples.

She quickly drew it out and set her bag aside. She apologized before moving close to take the lady's measurements, sensing the woman's agitation increase in the terse silence.

Itoko would have tried to make small talk. She didn't have the presence her master did, who could get away with being quiet. It was hardly her intention to seem rude, but Lady Kameko made that difficult. She didn't feel the noblewoman wanted to speak to her in any setting, professional or not. As far as she knew, Lady Kameko wanted nothing to do with her. She already threatened to have her killed if she spread the word of her improper liaison with a shinobi. The same shinobi who later went onto arrange Itoko's meeting with Lady Kameko. Of that fact Itoko was certain. She saw them together last night after he promised to speak with her. She doubted Lady Kameko would see her if she hadn't been urged by someone that held some influence over her.

Izuna, she assumed, was only a charming influence. Nothing more, nothing less. He seemed talented at being a distraction.

She shook her head. She didn't want to jump to such conclusions. It was rude to be so assuming of a person, especially one she just met.

Itoko heard the sound of her bag slip, a few spools tumbling out from inside. She turned towards it, excusing herself with the lady as she did, and started to pick up her thread before it rolled out of sight when she clearly felt the ground shake. Her heart jolted in response.

"Was that a tremor?" asked Lady Kameko, visibly alarmed.

Itoko stood upright, her hands full. "I think it was."

Aine peered inside. "Lady Kameko, is everything okay? I felt a tremor?"

"The Uchiha shinobi are still posted around the castle, yes?"

Aine nodded. "We encountered plenty on the way here."

Itoko's heart drummed nervously. Did that tremor mean they were being attacked? Would they be safe here? Would the Uchiha clan be enough? She swallowed hard, her heartrate growing rampant.

"Good," said Lady Kameko, seeming to breathe a sigh of relief when an Uchiha shinobi pushed the doors apart fully, startling Aine. He entered with another three shinobi following suit.

Itoko recognized the first man to enter. He was the fearsome-looking male that had called out to Izuna when he had been talking to her yesterday afternoon. His long hair was held up in a short ponytail, his eyes dark like every Uchiha she had encounter during her stay, but unlike Izuna's which were normally filled with friendliness, his were narrowed, serious, and full of hostile conviction.

The room's ambience immediately soured when one shinobi grabbed Aine firmly by the wrist and another took Itoko as well, the remaining two—along with the one Itoko recalled—stopped Lady Kameko from running towards the door.

Itoko stared up at the Uchiha holding her, her heart jumped straight into her throat when he looked back with a glare that threatened trouble if she tried to run. She froze where she stood.

Lady Kameko glowered at the two fiercely. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Do not try to run," advised the fearsome male, "you will only make this harder for yourself."

"My father will hear of this!" threatened Lady Kameko. "You cannot do this!"

"Your father no longer has a say, this castle belongs to the Uchiha clan."

Lady Kameko was scandalized. "Where's Izuna?"

"That's none of your business," the other shinobi said, taking her by the wrist.

She jerked her hand back. "Unhand me!"

The fearsome shinobi grabbed the lady by her wrist this time and bent forward, hoisting her onto his shoulder like a bag of flour. She thrashed and shouted, demanding that she be taken to see Izuna, but her protests went on ignored as she was carried out of her room.

Itoko felt the shinobi holding her pull her forward as he began to walk, guiding her out the door. The other shinobi holding Aine followed close behind. Aine burst into tears and cried the entire way to the basement where they were discarded along with the rest of the staff. Lady Kameko was taken elsewhere. Itoko could still hear her shouting long after they were locked up.

As they sat in the dark, listening to the footsteps above them, fear spread between them. Itoko sat in the fetal position surrounded by most of the kitchen staff and asked herself not to cry.

She couldn't cry. Even though she wanted to very badly. Even though she was paralyzed by the fear of not knowing whether she or anyone else in the room would make it outside alive.

She was terrified. She wanted to go home.

Holding herself tightly, she heard a low creak above her followed by several snaps of wood, as if the wooden foundation was giving into the heaviness. Everyone around her jolted, their gazes snapping upward to the shadowed ceiling above their head when another tremor shook the castle violently making them all scream as they covered themselves with their arms.

As the shaking gained momentum, the ceiling above them gave out.

* * *

**xl note**: Whooop there it is! It is a little short, but I'm trying to get back into writing! I still haven't recovered from school yet. Is anyone still going through this? Finals ruined my life, but I got a 4.0 this semester~~ So, it paid off. XD

By the way, that fearsome-looking shinobi is actually Seijun. He was introduced in Kintsugi where no one really thinks he's scary. Actually, if you're a Kuronuma or Keigo, you don't really take Seijun seriously. Poor Seijun.

I apologize for the wait! More chapters to come! Cross your fingers!

Empress is next on my list~

I would like to thank all the new readers that added this story to their alert/favorites list. I appreciate it! Extra thanks to these lovely people: **JustKeepSmilingRainbows**, **Unlimited Power**, **Libbeth**, **FlameCore**, **SilverRider09**, **blob80**, **Melissa Fairy**, **Guest** (Thank you for reading and reviewing!), **rabiosarabiosa**, **NotAndreea**, **torikai**, and **krooks16** for reviewing the previous chapter. (Edit 09/16 - Apologies to torikai because your name was erased when I was trying to bold it and it was left as 'b' and I never noticed!)

Thank you for reading! :D


	4. From the Wreckage

**04** – From the Wreckage

* * *

The night felt distant, a yawning abyss dotted with speckled stars, and in the backdrop sounds of agony rang like the chorus of a violent tune. All of the numbness that paralyzed her body deserted her as a breeze kicking up dust and pebbles struck her face, awakening her to the sudden cold and the shock of pain running across her spine, down her legs. The suddenness sped away the numbness with which she had awakened.

She sucked in a deep breath, inhaling the dust and exhaling to watch it flutter all around her into a cloud that twisted like a snake, fading in the second cold breeze to slap her cheeks. There were open wounds on her face because the air stung, little movements pulled at the tiny abrasions, but the little aches were nothing compared to the throbbing pains in the rest of her body. She fractured one of her legs, she knew, she had done it before as a child climbing the roof of the tea house after one of the boys from the neighborhood threw her ball up there and it was snagged on the gnarled branches of an overgrown tree beside it. She fell out of the roof when she took one bad step, though she later learned the tiles were old and a little loose, and fractured only her leg as well as bruised the rest of her body. The pain as a child felt worse than it did now, but it was bad nonetheless.

Her back hurt, pressed down by a foreign weight. Even with feeling returned to her limps, she was pinned down, trapped under a veil of darkness.

She coughed until the ringing in her ears stopped. There were people around her starting to panic. She heard there were others among the wreckage that had wiggled free to help the rest, but understood that wasn't enough. Every so often, the ground trembled and the frightened survivors screamed, pleading for help, and each time the battle seemed close, many of those that had risen from the debris had run.

Itoko developed disdain for this place as she came in and out of consciousness. She didn't come to blame anyone—her feelings were strong, but not quite so that they singled anyone out, though the obvious choice was Lady Kameko, who purposely held her back on doing her work to torture her. She wouldn't have been here for this nasty turn of events, she would be home, upstairs in her master's workspace, running in and out to do errands and watching the way he skillfully handled the kimono he made.

It was too much trouble to complain about her unfortunate situation, so she chased the thoughts from her head and focused on dragging her body out from under the wreckage.

Night was slowly making its transition to day, the black sky dotted with stars brightened with the pale coloring of the sun. The morning air was dewy, wet as it hit her wounded cheeks, and freezing cold. A cloud of mist spread across the debris making it nearly impossible to see anything beyond the broken castle around them. Only the echo of people's voices remained, growing distant.

Itoko spent a lot of time turning over on her back, hoping to use her good leg to push the heavy piece of stone slanted above her. She was fortunate that a beam of the castle's foundation fell beside her because it was thick and it protected her from the crushing weight of the chunk of wall above her. However, she made a grim realization once she was on her back when she felt something thick and sticky pooling underneath her. She brought her hand up to view and saw it glistening red, blood that could not have been hers. She was hurt, but had not sustained the sort of wound that would result in so much blood.

She started to panic. On the inside, her heart accelerated, her stomach twisted into knots, bile rose up to her throat and filled her mouth with a disgusting taste that made the nauseous. She turned over coughing until the acid spilled from her mouth, regurgitating until her belly unwound. It was empty.

To say that she wasn't familiar with death would be a lie. In the place where she last worked, before Koike, death happened with alarming frequency. Violent men came to do their violent business and left with bruised bloodied hands or the remains of their drunken pride intact. She was almost killed in that environment. During a day when the atmosphere was filled with the delicate shamisen, played by a girl that loved and practiced it every day without delay, the quality in the air was thick with mirth, sexual tension, and buzzing with voices. Itoko was attacked for being frightened on her way to deliver more drinks to the pink room.

She spilled all of the bottles, several shattered, for which she was later punished. Clumsiness was not becoming of women in her future profession, they said. She remembered the strong smell of the sake that spilled onto the floorboard and the last taste of oxygen before the man wrapped his hand around her neck, giving her what he claimed was a real reason to be afraid.

She doesn't remember why he stopped only that he did and when he did, she sank to the wet floor and tried futilely not to cry. The punishment would be worse if she did.

However, that and this were different. She wasn't completely ignorant of the stigma attached to shinobi either. Word of mouth that claimed they destroyed everything they touched and that they were dangerous. There were hundreds of shinobi clans across the continent, from the modest Tea Country to the giant Lightning Country to the Water Country across the sea, there were shinobi everywhere. They were used by lords to start conflicts or end them, to protect their lands or gain more. Shinobi were a new strand of hired mercenaries that did whatever bidding asked so long as payment was attached. They ruled one small dominion in their countries of origin, a town or a village depending on how large their own population was, and were hidden, as hidden as they needed to be to keep their own enemies at bay. They fostered alliances with each other through marriage, as the lords did, but sought power than influence and fought against their rivals.

The world was theirs.

The Uchiha clan that had been staying with Okui was rumored to be in the top three in the world. Tied first with the Senju clan, if she recalled correctly. Their shinobi were said to be incredibly powerful and frightening. Okui wanted to get rid of them. All of it was politics.

This was the result. This destruction and death ended the tensions between Okui and the Uchiha clan.

Itoko wanted to go home.

There were more sounds as time passed by, her vain struggles brought her nowhere close to releasing herself. She continued her efforts. She hated to give up. Even without results, she persevered, so unbearably stubborn that she hated herself for it. The alternative was to wait in the hopes that people came to check for survivors, but it would be incredibly naïve to think that would happen in an incident that involved shinobi.

She heard the crunch of footsteps halt above her and lifted her eyes to the sight of black clothing. The person crouched down until their face was upside down above hers. She opened her mouth in recognition, but the shinobi's name did not leave her lips. Maybe it was mock concern drawn in his pale face or actual concern that stunned her into silence, but she stared at Uchiha Izuna as he reached over with both hands on the chunk of stone above her.

"Are you hurt anywhere, Terashima-san?" he asked, lifting the heavy piece of wall above her with significant effort and difficulty. She saw the strain register more and more in his expression the higher he pushed the wall, moving forward a step to carry its weight.

She didn't answer, not at first. She was mesmerized by how red his face became the heavier the stone became to him until he received aid from two other Uchiha shinobi. Once freed, Izuna ordered them to continue searching for wounded and helped her up onto a seat.

Itoko suddenly felt embarrassed about her current state and lowered her eyes to her lap. Remembering in that instant that he had asked her a question. "I fractured my leg."

Looking down at it, her kimono torn and hiked up to her knee, she could see it, her right leg bruising badly and angled wrong, the bone stuck out strangely, but did not break the skin. That made it less frightening than the fracture she had in her youth, but it wasn't any less painful now that her leg wasn't pinned underneath the wall. However, she learned with time that was not the case. The weight had kept her numb to the worst of the pain.

"Come on, I'll take you somewhere to have that looked at," said Izuna, standing to move to her side.

He bent forward to wrap her arm around his shoulders and helped her up, but the resulting pain was so extreme that she couldn't stand being on her feet. She couldn't help the tears spilling from her eyes as she tried her hardest to be brave. This was nothing.

Oh, but she was homesick and hurt and she survived this. She couldn't just pass it off as nothing and she didn't understand what would happen next.

Izuna carried her on his back through the wreckage and mist. She supposed she was grateful to be alive.

* * *

**xl**: A very short chapter...but I'm trying to get back up on my feet. I apologize for the long wait, I misplaced my notes for this story (because I decided to clean and ruined everything) and while trying to remember, I got a different idea with where I want to take this, so strap in 'cause it's gonna get interesting (with a completely different pace than other of my stories). I'll try to manage another chapter or two for the upcoming holidays, but I don't want to make any promises because...school is starting soon and one of my professors literally assigned 10 books - 10 books for 10 weeks - and this is excluding the 4 books in another class. So, I'm probably gonna die after so much reading. Pray for me.

I hope nobody will mind the short chapters. I went through a bad beginning of the year. Health-wise, I feel like I'm in a better place now, so yay! Someone killed my motivation, too. I'm not one to be sensitive, either, but when someone kicks you when you're down, you're going to feel it, right? Okay, oversharing. Sorry.

Many, many thanks to these lovely people for the reviews: **Guest 1** (Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!), **krooks16**, **Guest 2** (Thank you, dear!), **HushedFable**, **True Guardian Angel**,** blob80**, **Miss Luny**, **Criala**, **Guest 3** (Thank you! I hope you enjoy this one!) **VolvicBabe**, **Unlimited Power**, **Huh** (Sorry for the long wait! Thank you for reading and reviewing), **Wash in with WAVES**.

Thank you for reading!

Every once in a while I received a new alert or favorite notification for this story and it warmed my heart. So, thank you new readers for adding this to your lists!


	5. The Hostage

**05** – The Hostage

Itoko lost consciousness along the way, the pain grew too much to bear awake, and opened her eyes again to a canopy of interwoven branches with thick leaves that shielded her from the brightness of morning. A damp cloth covered her forehead, keeping her temperature cool, and the throbbing of her leg had subsided, looking down at it, she saw that it was no longer angled wrong or swelled up twice its usual size. Purplish black contusions ran above the muscle and skin stretched tight above her tibia. The faint presence of a dull ache rippled underneath her marked flesh, but as she flexed her leg, she thought she might have imagined it.

She sat, catching the cloth in her hand when it peeled away, the forest came into view. The woodsy smell, the faint stinging scent of wildflowers, the distinctness of burnt wood, drying blood, and unwashed clothes mingling in the air invaded her nostrils. Tents erected behind heavy foliage, the colors blended in well enough that in the distance one might not see them for what they were. Shinobi roamed the area, moving swiftly with purpose, dressed in dark colors, a red and white fan printed somewhere on their clothes identifying them as Uchiha.

She recognized no one and her heart accelerated. Her leg wasn't a problem anymore, but she was far from home. The memory her mind conjured of Izuna appearing before her and helping her from out of the wreckage felt like a dream.

It happened. All of it. Lord Okui and the Uchiha clan saw their alliance severed. Uchiha Izuna, who promised not to conquer the castle, did. Lady Kameko was taken by the Uchiha clan and despite her being a terrible person, Itoko wished she knew that she was unharmed, that the shinobi captured her because Izuna cared about her enough to extend his protection onto her. She and Aine were forced into the basement with the rest of the staff where the ceiling collapsed.

She survived somehow, but many others hadn't.

The crunch of wet grass drew her gaze to Izuna as he made his slow approach to her with a waterskin. She took it, almost desperate, when he offered it, throat dry. She drank too much too quickly, coughed a lot of it back out, water spilling down her chin.

Izuna smiled, gracious, so completely undisturbed by the situation. Why wouldn't he be? This was natural for him.

Itoko tried drinking again, succeeding in swallowing more than she wasted, and returned the waterskin to him, whispering a raspy "thank you," inwardly contracting, fearful of the next words out of his mouth.

"Sorry about dragging you into this," he told her. "It couldn't be helped."

"How many people died?" she asked hoarsely.

"Don't think about that."

She dropped her gaze, but immediately felt his forefinger lift her chin, the strident smell of dirt and blood on his hands burned in her nostrils. Her eyes met his briefly. She moved away, focusing her attention entirely on the gray surface of a stone three feet away from her, unable to stand the thought of the death on his hands.

He said nothing. He did not move an inch. His breathing remained in control, quiet in and a mere whisper out.

"Forgive me, Terashima-san," he said, rising to his full height. "You've been unnecessarily drawn into this conflict. You've been exposed to more than you're used to and for that I apologize, truly. However, at this time, I cannot guarantee your safety."

Itoko's heart leapt into her throat, trepidation setting in. It was stupid of her to consider for an instant that he would. At least, he was honest. She could appreciate that, though not enough that it overshadowed the terror running cold in her veins.

"I don't mean to sound harsh, but it's the truth," he continued. "I can't offer you universal protection, but I can promise you that if you manage to survive, I will personally return you home."

"Why can I not leave now?"

"That would be impossible. You would be killed immediately. Your highest chance of survival will be to remain here where we can offer you shelter, rations, and some peace of mind."

"But I could still die?"

"This place will be attacked if our enemy finds it."

"Why did you save me?"

She wanted to ask what the point was in saving her if that single moment of relief that she tasted upon seeing him, realizing he had appeared from the mist to help her. She survived. It was the only thought in her mind. That should have been the only thing that mattered, but there were so many other things on her mind.

She wished she understood his reasons now. It wasn't because they were friends. They agreed to be friends, but there were so few interactions in between meeting one another to the gathering downstairs in the kitchen when she met Seiki.

"The castle's destruction—I couldn't stop it," said Izuna, and she regarded him, reading the disappointment, the frustration drawing his thin, black eyebrows together into a crease in the middle. "We saved who we could. Brought them here. Healed them. We can't do more."

This wasn't his fault.

Itoko chose silence. She couldn't look him in the eyes. Bitter shame on her tongue.

"Could I bother you for a favor?" asked Izuna.

She owed him that much, she supposed. He saved her. She wasn't completely ungrateful. He could simply take what he wanted, she supposed, and she wouldn't have complained, but he asked. This was different.

"What is it?"

"Actually, you must be hungry, we should see to that first."

Itoko made a move to stand, but Izuna asked her to stay there. He would find her something to eat and bring it to her and without giving her the chance to refuse him, he sprinted away.

He returned several minutes later with a pair of onigiri. Salmon.

"Salmon was all we had left."

"I like salmon," she responded because he sounded apologetic.

"I personally like pickled plum in mine."

"Tarako."

Izuna smiled, the easiness of it made her heart flutter. "I like tarako too, but I don't get to eat it often. My brother hates roe."

Itoko ate as much as she could, realizing halfway through her first onigiri that she wasn't all that hungry. She struggled to eat the rest, saving the second one for later. Izuna stayed in her company all the while, though she felt she wasted his time. She counted four shinobi that approached him to relay a secret message to him, stayed until he gave out his orders, and left, but there were at least six others watching him. Six that she had seen. There would be more. He was important it seemed. If he had been doing all the talking with the lord of a castle, he had to be important.

Izuna removed her from her current location, guiding her further into the stretch of trees, taller with thicker branches and wider leaves that covered the sun. She tripped over a few roots and stones, the bottom of her bare feet stung, and the dim surroundings steadily grew darker the closer they were to their destination, making it harder for her to see and easier for her to continue to stumble.

"Excuse me," said Izuna in front of her, his cold hand sliding over hers.

She tensed.

There were others all around her. She couldn't see them. She could feel their eyes following them along the unmarked path.

Itoko stretched her neck to look over his shoulder, a small orb of light growing larger until they entered a sphere of firelight that cast the surrounding vegetation in a yellow filter, deepening shades of brown and green. Morning light did not reach this place.

Izuna turned around swiftly, shielding the small patch of earth from view, but she managed to count four shinobi in sight. She took a step back, instinctively, her hand free of his grip, cold, as his was when it took hers, as if she had stolen the ice from his palm. She met his eyes, dark, gleaming, his face shadowed, its natural humor absent.

"We are all in a precarious situation," started Izuna. "All of us. I need you to do this without considering the other side. Don't think about it. Don't listen to her. All you have to do is watch her. Be sure that she wants for nothing, but do not let her manipulate you into releasing her. She's key to our survival. Understand?"

She swallowed thickly and nodded.

She wanted to return home. Alive. There were so many things that she wanted to do. Becoming Koike's apprentice was more than a coincidence. She would've died where she had been before. Not a physical death. The other kind. The worst kind. The type that you preferred the sweet surrender of eternal sleep than the hell that your life became. She was given an opportunity to be more than what was expected of her. She could become someone, of meager importance, perhaps, but a person with purpose.

"Do I have your word?"

"Yes," she said, looking at him briefly as he moved out of the way.

Behind him, sitting in the center of the bald piece of earth surrounded by six shinobi, was Kameko, arms bound behind her back, bedraggled, blindfolded, and gagged. Her rosy cheeks were glistening, fresh with tears. Seeing her as she was, a hostage, startled Itoko and she jerked away, looking to Izuna, whose dark eyes were cold, empty, dangerous.

"What is—?"

"Don't," said Izuna calmly. "Listen."

She covered her mouth, the color drained from her face, heart hammering in her chest.

"You are to watch her and take care of her. Don't let her run. Placate her until I concede her release."

She started to shake her head, side to side, refusing to partake in this, but Izuna stepped forward, smiling, not a cinch of friendliness in sight. The blood in her veins ran cold.

"It's a small favor," he said, "for a friend."

"These are not the types of favors one asks of their friends."

"Well then, we won't be friends and you'll do this because you want to survive."

Yes. It was suddenly quite clear to her, like the parting of clouds after a stormy night.

He terrified her.

"Do we have a deal?" asked Izuna, the cheerfulness returned, brightening his shadowed countenance. The difference from the first time they met to that moment was startling. A stark contrast.

"Y-Yes."

This man was not her friend. He was never her friend. He was first and foremost a shinobi and whatever that meant for him.

And she was just as much a hostage as Kameko.

* * *

**xl**: Happy Halloween!

Surprise update! There were a lot of votes for this story, so if you voted, thank you so much for taking the time to do so. It placed 3rd, but technically made it to 2nd since 1st was tied. So, yay!

Do check out the announcements on my profile (for the gist of them or livejournal for the full explanation). They're important.

I know what you're thinking. Holy hell, Izuna, what are you doing? Stahp.

Also, I hope you don't mind the short chapters. They're surprisingly serving their purpose.

Thank you **Estherdabookworm**, **JustKeepSmilingRainbows**, **rabiosarabiosa**, **True Guardian Angel**, and **HushedFable** for reviewing the previous chapter. Thank you, everyone else, for reading!


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